


A Night That Lasts Forever

by starsofcrystal



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Basically a Bit of Everything, Clubber!Lance, DJ!Keith, Fluff, Fluffy Ending, Gratuitous Smut, Hook-Up, Light Angst, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Road Head, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Spanking, Strangers to Lovers, Teasing, i suck at summaries, kinda OOC
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-04
Updated: 2017-01-04
Packaged: 2018-09-14 20:49:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9202721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starsofcrystal/pseuds/starsofcrystal
Summary: Tonight,We are young;So let's set the world on fire,We can burn brighter,Than the sun-Fun, We Are Young~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Keith meets Lance while he's DJ-ing at a nightclub. Lance acts like he just wants to have fun with no strings attached, but Keith thinks he deserves more.





	1. Pulse

**Author's Note:**

  * For [trashuniverse](https://archiveofourown.org/users/trashuniverse/gifts).



> *Unbeta'd and I have absolutely no clue how DJ-ing or nightclubs actually work. Sorry!*
> 
> This was supposed to be a Christmas gift for my friend but I forgot to post it so now it's their birthday gift lmao. Check out [their tumblr](http://trash-universe.tumblr.com) because they're great!!

The club was filled to the brim, most likely over capacity as Keith slowly switched over to another song, the crowd giving their enthusiastic whoops at the new beat. It was too hot and the air smelled of booze, fake fog, and sweat mixed with expensive perfume, but Keith knew that this gig he had landed at the elite nightclub, Voltron, was worth the mild discomfort he was experiencing. He had to give it is all tonight so he could maybe become a regular and up his DJ-ing profits all while getting his name out. As the beat picked up its pace and he added another loop, more people flooded to the dance floor and let loose, and in the mass of sweaty bodies glowing under the black lights, Keith spotted him. Tall and handsome, with messy hair and an ass that would make anybody jealous, he immediately captured Keith's attention. The crowd faded into a blur as he focused on that lithe body moving so fluidly to the beat, eyes closed and sweat dripping down his face. The tacky glowing bracelets that adorned everybody's wrists for "glo night" at the club seemed to be the perfect accessory for him as he swished his hips in a way the DJ thought only pole dancers could achieve. And he was alone on the floor. Most people were grinding up against others or dancing in groups, but he was different. He stood out like he didn't need a dance partner, like he was too good to stoop to that level and knew it.

And it made Keith _furious_.

He snapped back to reality and realized he'd been ignoring the setup in front of him, quickly adding a flourish to the song to pick the melody back up. He could not afford to suck on this job, so he dropped his gaze from the crowd (with much more difficulty than it should've taken), and focused on the sound boards in front of him, cursing under his breath at that infuriatingly beautiful man. He just had to hold out for a little bit longer before the song reached its plateau, where people would break from dancing to grab a drink or leave the club wrapped around another person. The raven-haired man sighed and made the mistake of looking up, eyes automatically seeking out the man from before.

He found him staring directly back at him, with a gaze so intense it made him shudder. A salacious smile creeped onto his face as he saw the reaction and started dancing even better than before, if that was even possible. He swallowed thickly as hot arousal shot through him along with anger. He gripped a dial a little too hard as he turned it, clenching his teeth at the flames that now burned low in his gut. He didn't break eye contact with the lanky man, not even when the song hit the plateau and some people cleared off the floor. Instead, he approached the DJ booth, hips purposely swaying.

"Hey, mullet head. Do you take song requests?" He asked in a perfect fucking voice that matched his perfect fucking body.

"No," Keith bit out sharply, glaring at him. "And it's DJ Red to you, asshole."

"Ooh, feisty! I wonder how the owner of this club would feel if I told him you were treating patrons poorly, 'cause him and I are good friends..."

"You wouldn't," Keith hissed, anger licking through his veins.

"I would... unless you play 'Into You' by my girl Ariana, and," his voice dropped lower, his next words sending another flash of intense heat through him, "meet me outside after you're done with DJ-ing."

"You'll-" he swallowed, tongue flicking out to wet his dry lips. "You'll have to wait a while then, I end at 3:45."

The man chuckled, watching the tongue that wet his lips before leaning in closer. "I think you're worth the wait," he said huskily before walking off with that same fucking sway in his hips.

Keith stood there, stunned. Had he really just agreed to hook up with a (admittedly very hot) guy who's name he didn't even know and while he was on the job? The mystery hot guy gave him a wink when he caught him staring, making his face heat up as he quickly glanced away. He reluctantly put on the requested song and watched as the man flashed him a smile before beginning his hypnotic dance once again. Keith tore his eyes away and focused on his work, finally being able to relax and let the flow of music take him away.

* * *

The rest of the night passed by quickly, Keith's ever-present frustration reflected in the harsh-tempo music he chose. The crowd was thinning out, the hot guy nowhere to be seen. As more people left, Keith began packing up his equipment, planning on leaving the stifling club as soon as possible. He was packed and outside in 15 minutes, a record time for him, the cool night air a relief from the nasty club. It was quiet as he trudged over to his car, which was parked behind the building, lugging his equipment along.

"Hey. You need help with that?" A smooth and maddeningly familiar voice said. The owner of it stepped out of the shadows and walked casually over to Keith, as if he hadn't just been fucking around with him. Now that he could properly see him under normal lighting, he realized that this man really was gorgeous, prettier than he previously thought. His mocha skin indicated Spanish descent but his stark blue eyes stood out along with his milk chocolate-colored hair. His tank top stuck against his sweaty skin, leaving little to the imagination. It took a while for Keith to formulate a coherent sentence, and even then he could only manage one word.

"You," he hissed, clutching the cases tighter.

"Well I prefer being called Lance," he laughed lightly.

"What the fuck was earlier about?!"

"Oh, do you mean me asking you out? You have really nice eyes, you're hot, and you DJ pretty well, so I thought why the fuck not, right?" He shrugged, coming closer to the raven-haired man.

Keith was at a loss as to what to say. How could he be so fucking casual about this? How could he act as if he knew he had the DJ wrapped around his finger? The smirk that Lance flashed him was the straw that broke the camel's back. He was going to put this pompous asshole in his place. He dropped his cases carelessly on the ground and pinned Lance up against the side of the car, harshly claiming his lips. The initial moment of surprise passed and the dark-skinned male began to kiss back, hot passion flowing between the two as Keith bit Lance's lower lip a little too hard, a shudder running through his body. The DJ roughly grabbed his ass and yanked the man's hips up against his, a sharp moan cutting through the kiss as Keith harshly ground against Lance. Suddenly, he let go of the other male, leaving him panting and confused.

"Get in the car."

"But-"

"Just get in the fucking car. I need to put my cases in the trunk and then we're going back to my place."

Lance nodded silently and slid into the passenger seat, Keith joining him shortly afterwards. Traffic was bad as the downtown nightclub rush finished and the longer they spent in the car, the tenser the atmosphere became. When they hit yet another red light, Keith felt a hand creep into his lap.

"Lance..."

"I can't wait," he said simply, slipping his hand into Keith's leather pants. The DJ's grip on the wheel tightened as Lance pulled him out and began to stroke him, not daring to look at the other man's face lest he loose all control. He luckily managed to not get into an accident while the mocha-skinned male rubbed him, despite the increasing urgency to fuck Lance right then and there.

That previous control was thrown out the window when a sinfully hot wetness enveloped him and he swerved violently into another lane, nearly colliding with someone and earning him a very pissed off honk and yelled expletives.

"Fuck!" He growled and quickly pulled himself back into the other lane. Even after the near accident they had, Lance still continued to suck on him in a way that made Keith's toes curl and his body shake. He desperately tried to control his voice and the car, but couldn't manage both at the same time as the other male dragged his tongue roughly up the underside of his member before wrapping his lips around the head and sucking powerfully. A moan tore it's way out of his mouth and his eyes threatened to flutter shut as Lance worked him.

"Mmmm..." The other male hummed, the vibration shooting sparks up his spine as he dared to looked down at him. He almost melted at the sight of Lance palming himself through his pants, eyes shut and mouth stretched and drooling around his cock. He risked taking a hand off of the steering wheel and using it to shove other male all the way down. After an initial gag of surprise, he swallowed him easily and _fuck_ his throat was hot-

A blaring horn shook him from his reverie and he realized he had been stopped at a light for way too long and a line had formed behind him. He accelerated suddenly, causing Lance to lurch forward a bit and shoot him an annoyed but lust-addled glare. The male began to bob his head the best he could from the strange angle he was at, which was enough for Keith to begin losing control of himself, hips trying to thrust into Lance's mouth.

When yet another person honked at him because he began drifting into incoming traffic, he managed to get his bearings enough to pull into a parking lot. Lance was already gone, whimpering as he rocked into his palm and sucked on his dick like it was the most delicious thing he had ever tasted. The DJ was going to lose it soon, too, so he forced himself to pull a panting and drooling Lance away from his length.

"Why did you do that?" He asked, confused.

"I almost got into an accident twice. We could've gotten killed!"

Lance laughed and wiped his mouth off on the back of his hand. "Totally worth it."

"But-"

"Dude, are you seriously complaining?" Keith opened his mouth as if to say something, but closed it and glared at Lance.

"Heh, that's what I thought. Now that we're not recklessly endangering anyone, can I continue?" He asked, already eyeing his cock hungrily.

"Not unless you're prepared to be fucked in the back seat of this car, without lube." The blunt statement shut Lance up and he sunk back into the seat, huffing and crossing his arms. "Whatever. Just take me to your apartment before I start again."

He was caught off guard at the sudden grip on his shoulder and Keith's violet eyes staring harshly into his blue ones.

"You need to stop being such a fucking smartass. You've already caused me a lot of trouble, and unless you never want to come tonight, I suggest you shut the fuck up."

The tone Keith used oozed dominance and Lance suppressed a shudder at the words, biting his lip. The DJ noticed his reaction and smirked, pulling the car back out onto the road as Lance fidgeted beside him.

* * *

The second Keith pulled into the parking lot of his apartment building, Lance was on top of him and kissing him furiously. They both managed to stumble out of the car, only separating to shakily unlock the door and almost fall into the elevator, hastily pushing the button to his floor. The brown-haired male was pinned up against the back of the elevator, unraveling as soon as Keith rolled his hips up into his. He moaned openly as the DJ sucked on his neck, tilting it to the side so that he could have better access to the blank canvas, inviting him to cover it with marks. Both men were painfully hard, but when Lance tried reaching down to unbutton Keith's pants, the raven-haired man grabbed his wrists and pinned them above his head.

"I'm in charge tonight," he growled into his ear before biting it. Lance shivered at the commanding tone and was about to reply when the the creaky elevator came to a stop with an annoying ding, surprising both of them.

"Come on," Keith said, dragging the other male out of the elevator and down the nondescript hallway before coming up to his room at the end. As soon as the door was unlocked and slammed shut behind them, they were together again, pulling their clothes off and tossing them away carelessly. Keith picked up the other male much to Lance's surprise, carrying him into his bedroom and throwing him on the bed. As he rummaged through his nightstand, Lance tried pulling his shorts down, which was a lot harder than anticipated. Keith turned around and saw Lance wriggling around like a fish out of water, face red as he tried worming out of his pants.

"You need a little help there, pretty boy?" He said, barely containing his laughter.

"No!" Lance spluttered out, flushing an even brighter red. Keith ignored him and helped anyways, chuckling the entire time.

"Y'know I could've done that myself, asshole."

"It didn't seem like it," he laughed.

Lance huffed and turned his head away. "Whatever, pixie prick."

Keith was on him in a flash. "What the _fuck_ did you just say?"

"Did I stutter? You heard exactly what I said. You're pretty unimpressive compared to the ones I've had before," he said, staring straight into the other male's violet eyes. Suddenly, his head was pulled harshly to the side by his hair, and a set of teeth sank into his neck. The shock of pain from his hair being tugged mingled with the sting of teeth almost breaking sensitive skin was twisted ecstasy for Lance. He let out a sharp whine and his hips shot upwards against his will.

"I'll make sure that you won't even remember being fucked by anyone else once I'm done with you," he hissed before sucking deep purplish-red bruises into his skin, nipping his way down the smooth chest of the brown-haired male. Another sharp cry rang out as he bit one puckered, chocolate-colored nipple and pulled the other one with his fingers. Much to Lance's dismay, he refused to move from that spot, torturing his sensitive nubs until he was writhing.

"Please, more," he gasped, trying to push his hips up into him.

"Well, aren't you a greedy little slut? You didn't even finish what you started," he tsked, sitting up. The strain in his pants was all that Lance needed to see to understand, eagerly scrambling up and undoing his belt. He barely got the other male's pants down his thighs before his throbbing cock was shoved roughly down his throat. Lance gagged at the sudden intrusion but quickly recovered, swallowing around him and happily letting Keith fuck his face. His mind was hazy, the need to relieve himself rivaling with the need to please his lover. He could only press his thighs together, completely at Keith's mercy.

With no fancy tongue-work or pauses to delay his impending orgasm, the DJ had no chance of surviving very long, coming suddenly down the other's throat with a loud groan, clutching Lance's hair so tight he actually tore a few strands out. The other male barely noticed, swallowing the thick cum and effectively milking him out all while staring up at his lover with glassy, lust-filled eyes. Keith shuddered at the sensation of the slick warmth of Lance's throat sliding against his softening dick as he pulled out.

Freed from the tight grip on his hair, Lance flopped back onto the bed and spread his legs sloppily, gazing up at Keith with needy, lazuli blue eyes.

"Please," he breathed in a raspy voice.

The DJ didn't need to hear any more, kicking his pants the rest of the way off and blindly grabbing the lube he set on the nightstand earlier. Lance couldn't stop the jump and pleading, high-pitched whine he made at the feeling of fingers trailing around his entrance, slick with cold lube. A single finger pressed in, sweetly teasing him with shallow thrusts and curls as the raven-haired male leaned down to kiss his shivering lover. He ignored the impatient hums against his lips and took his time, slowly pumping one- then two- fingers in and out. It wasn't enough for Lance, the fingers always coming just short of his sweet spot and his dripping cock neglected as it throbbed against his stomach. The DJ didn't even add the third finger he needed to feel the hot stretch he loved, seemingly content with just torturing Lance. The annoyed mocha-skinned male bit down on his lover's bottom lip as a last-ditch effort, effectively making the other pull back.

"C'mon, more," he gasped, weakly hitting the other's chest. "I can't, I need- a-aah!" His sentence cut off with a cry as the third digit he wanted so desperately finally pressed inside, his cry cracking and going up an octave as he finally, _finally_ , brushed against his prostate in the same thrust. After that, he assaulted his sweet spot with toe-curling accuracy, hitting deep in just the right places while scissoring and curling his fingers expertly. Lance bucked his hips up and tossed his head back and forth, well-voiced in his appreciation with loud moans and various praises of _"yes, oh god, Keith, so good, don't stop"_.

After being denied pleasure for so long, Lance found himself approaching his end embarrassingly quick, his moans turning into hitching cries as tears of ecstasy beaded in the corners of his scrunched up eyes. He was so close, _so close_. The sudden pain from Keith sinking his teeth into his neck again sent a sharp shock throughout his entire body and he stiffened, violently tumbling over the edge with a broken shout of his lover's name. The sheer force of it made his back bow off of the bed, fists clutching the sheets so hard his knuckles were white. His entire body trembled, frozen in a state of bliss until he fell back onto the bed and the afterglow washed over him. He felt tingly from his head to his toes as he came down from his dizzying high, barely noticing when Keith pulled his fingers out.

The moment of peace was effectively broken when Lance felt something hot and wet drag over his stretched hole. He squealed in surprise as he jerked back into awareness, eyes opening to see a smug Keith in between his legs

"We're not done here yet," he murmured, breath hot against his skin before he licked another broad stripe from his still-sensitive hole up to his balls, pausing on his perenium to push against his sensitive prostate.

"Dude, stop teasing and just fuck me already, oh my _god_ -" His sentence was cut off when he was roughly turned over onto his stomach.

"Get on your knees and put that filthy ass in the air," Keith growled. Lance didn't need to be asked twice, quickly obliging. The tearing of a wrapper was heard and his breath quickened with anticipation, so ready to be fucked into the mattress.

He certainly wasn't expecting the sharp slap against his ass and he lurched forward with a yelp, the stinging burn momentarily distracting him. Keith took this opportunity to slam into Lance, making him choke on a garbled scream, eyes wide and wild with the overload of sensations. Keith's thrusts were deep and unrelenting, hitting his prostrate hard and fast. Lance was unable to close his mouth, drool dripping onto the sheets below, each snap of his hips pushing out a strangled noise from deep within his throat. Keith's nails dug crescent-shaped indents into the soft skin of Lance's hips, only letting go to randomly slap his bouncing ass. It was primal, punishing, painful, fucking.

And Lance _loved_ it.

It was, by far, the best dick he had ever gotten, the intensity of it making his arms turn to jelly before they eventually gave out under his body weight, making him collapse face-first into the pillows, ass still up in the air. Keith didn't even stop, only shuffling a bit to adjust to the new angle and continuing the brutal pace. Each bruising thrust was followed by a deep, raspy grunt, setting every one of Lance's nerves on fire and making his swollen cock jump. All he knew was Keith, in him and around him; the spicy, sweat-tinged scent of his skin, the heat of his body, the sound of his voice, the taste of him still lingering on his lips. When a hand wrapped around him he lost it, babbled prayers of Keith's name tumbling out of his mouth as he pushed into the warm, slick cage of fingers with wild abandon.

"Keith, please, please-" he gasped, voice muffled by the pillows.

"Please what?"

"I'm g-gonna come, please- ah- lemme come, o-oh god, _please_ -"

Keith managed to give him a pleased smile, leaning down and whispering, "good boy" before moving his hand.

A few pumps was all it took for Lance to fall apart, mouth opening in a pillow-muffled scream as his entire body jerked. Seemingly never ending spurts of cum splattered onto the bedsheets below, the dizzying intensity of it making his eyes roll back into his head. The sinful heat of Lance's walls squeezing tightly around his length and the fucked raw voice that called out his name pushed Keith over the edge, hips stuttering before he came hard. Lance could vaguely hear the loud, animalistic growl that the DJ released as he came, dick throbbing inside of him.

They laid there, hunched over and gasping as they tried to recover from their mind-blowing orgasms, bodies still being wracked with aftershocks. The disorienting euphoria slowly subsided and they melted into the numbing afterglow together, reveling in each other's warmth. Keith carefully pulled out and disposed of the condom and Lance- freed from the tight grip on his hips- collapsed onto the dirtied bed, followed by Keith. Neither of them could bring themselves to care about the mess they were laying in as they quickly succumbed to unconsciousness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why is Lance so good at sucking dick, you ask? Well, practice makes perfect and he's had a lot of practice.
> 
> Dirty fact of the day: did you know that an orgasm through just prostate stimulation actually doesn't cause ejaculation? It's like a female orgasm and it requires no recovery period! A very helpful fact when writing smut ;)


	2. Warmth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter because I'm a slut for sappy clichés and I like happy endings (if you couldn't already tell by the title of this fic) :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just needed an excuse to put Lance in an oversized sweater okay he's adorable. I'd also like to believe he thinks gendered things are stupid and wears skirts, flower crowns, and makeup because "hey, I look smoking hot".

Lance slowly blinked into reality, sleep-blurred eyes focusing on his unfamiliar surroundings. Sunlight streaming in through the windows bathed the small room in late morning warmth as he stretched languidly and yawned. His body felt boneless and pretty sore, a pleasant reminder of the night before.

Last night.

Shit.

He lurched up and looked at the clock on the nightstand, the drowsy morning laziness disappearing like he just had a bucket of ice water dumped over him.

12:34 P.M.

_Shit_.

He was supposed to leave a long time ago; he made a rule to never sleep over after a one night stand ever since he almost got killed by the army husband of some chick he picked up at a bar when the very pissed off man found them together the next morning. Fortunately, he could hear the sound of water running from another room and figured Keith was in the shower, so he got up, planning on getting dressed and slipping out quietly.

Except his clothes were nowhere to be seen in the tidy room. There was, however, a small closet. The last thing Lance wanted to do was rummage through Keith's things, but it was better than going out in nothing but his skin to search for his clothes, so he opened the squeaky folding door as quietly as he could and grabbed a random article of clothing: a soft, white, cable knit sweater that he noted was too big for both him and Keith. Thankfully, the large size came in handy and it was big enough to reach mid-thigh and cover the essentials, because there was absolutely no way in hell he was going to borrow Keith's underwear. It was comfy despite the sleeves being long enough to almost reach the tip of his fingers and it drooping off his slim frame. God, he really hoped it didn't belong to some boyfriend he wasn't told about. He shook his head as if to clear the unsettling thought from his mind. He'd been a homewrecker plenty of times before and was kind of numb to the fights and break ups he'd witnessed, but the thought of Keith having someone else bothered him more than it should have. He would have to find his clothes and scram before he was discovered as "the other man". Grabbing his phone, he rushed out of the bedroom and slammed right into the exact person he was trying to avoid. They toppled over onto the floor, Lance landing on top of Keith and knocking the air out of both of their lungs.

"Owww," he groaned, opening his eyes to see Keith's violet ones staring back at him, their faces only inches apart.

"Um... good morn-" His awkward greeting was cut off when the DJ suddenly pressed a kiss to his lips. Lance scrambled off of the other male, slapping a hand over his mouth in shock. Keith smirked, drinking in the sight of his flustered lover in an oversized sweater, soft hair sleep-mussed and smooth, mocha skin marred with kiss marks.

"Beautiful," he murmured. The compliment threw Lance completely off and he just stared at the other, confused.

"I think the right response is 'thank you'," He chortled, getting up and brushing himself off.

"Oh... um, sorry for staying so long, I'll be out of your hair soon, I was just trying to find my clothes."

"Wait, what?" He asked, perplexed. "You're not bothering me at all, I don't mind you staying."

"But... why? Don't you have a boyfriend or something?"

Keith's eyes widened. "What? Boyfrie- no! Why would you- are you suggesting I would cheat?! I don't even-" he stopped his sentence short with a noise of frustration as he ran a hand through his hair. "Just... just go take a shower, okay? I'll leave some towels out for you, but your clothes are in the wash right now. They were kinda nasty and smelled like sweat. We can talk afterwards."

"Oh... uh, thanks?" He responded, still at a loss as to why he was being so nice to him.

"It's nothing," he said a little coldly before turning and walking into his bedroom. Left alone, Lance dazedly walked into the bathroom, shedding the sweater and turning on the water before stepping under the steaming stream and letting it wash away the remnants of the night before. He tried to keep his mind blank and instead focused on the methodical and familiar movements of washing himself. Hesitating a little, he grabbed one of the bottles of soap and poured some into his hand before scrubbing himself down. The heavy scent of warm cinnamon, bakery spice, and pumpkin pie hit him like a train and he looked at the bottle properly, cracking up when he saw that it was indeed pumpkin spice body wash. Oh man, he was gonna have a field day with Keith over this one.

* * *

Lance stepped out of the bathroom clad in the same sweater from before just in time to hear a disturbingly loud crash and colorful swears.

"Keith?" He called tentatively, worry laced through his words.

"Yeah I'm-  _shit_ \- I'm in the kitchen," he answered, and Lance followed his voice to the small kitchen/living room combo. He was greeted with a distressed Keith trying to clean up a pan of something that was literally on fire off of the floor. Judging by the pan of eggshell-filled scrambled eggs still frying on the stove and the smoke coming out of the toaster, it was clear that Keith was trying (and evidently failing) to make breakfast. Holding back his laughter, Lance swooped in to help, turning the toaster and stove off as a panicked Keith quickly extinguished the flaming... whatever it was supposed to be.

"I... I just wanted to make you breakfast," he sighed, defeated, as he stared at the mess in his kitchen.

"While I think that's a very sweet gesture, I think you should get away from the kitchen before you burn the building down," Lance laughed. "How about you just sit down and I'll handle breakfast, yeah?"

"But you're my guest, shouldn't I be the one doing this?"

"Obviously not. Don't worry about it, I'll make something," he said, rummaging through the fridge before pulling out a jar of salsa, a bag of corn tortillas, butter, and a carton of eggs. "Where do you keep the pans?"

"In the cupboard to the left of the stove. What are you making?" Keith queried, curious.

"It's a surprise," he said and winked before preheating the oven and buttering up one pan, pouring the salsa in another. He hummed absentmindedly as he cooked, browning four tortillas lightly before putting them in the oven and frying up four eggs. Keith watched, completely enraptured in Lance's movements and the way he easily cooked like it was nothing. It was definitely cute when he did a little jig while taking the plated tortillas out of the oven, sliding the perfectly fried eggs on top and pouring the warmed salsa over it all.

"And voilà! Breakfast is served," Lance declared triumphantly as he set down a plate with two eggs and two tortillas in front of Keith before sitting across from him at the small table with his own plate.

"What is it?" Keith asked, raising an eyebrow at the unfamiliar meal.

"It's a simplified, bachelor's version of huevos rancheros. Normally I'd make the salsa and tortillas myself like my mamá, but I knew you definitely didn't have the ingredients for that, judging by the lack of finesse you have in the kitchen."

"Whatever," he grumbled, shoving a forkful of the food into his mouth. His eyes widened in surprise as the flavors burst in his mouth and he looked up at Lance.

"It's good, right?" He laughed.

"Yeah, it really is. Tell your mom I said thanks for teaching you how to cook like a god." Lance blushed but his chest swelled with pride as he watched Keith inhale his meal.

* * *

After breakfast, they curled up on the couch with mugs of coffee, the silence awkward as Keith tried to figure out where to start.

"So..." he began, "for starters, I don't currently have a partner, boyfriend or otherwise. What made you think that I did?"

"Uh... this sweater, actually," he said, gesturing to the sweater he was still wearing even though his clothes were now clean. "We're similar in size, height-wise at least, and it's much too big for either of us."

"That sweater was actually a gift from my halmoni- sorry, I mean grandma- a while back. She made it herself, but her sizing was way off."

"Oh... oh! I'm really sorry for wearing it," he apologized quickly.

"Don't be, it looks much better on you than it ever would on me," he said, and Lance's cheeks warmed for what seemed to be the thousandth time that morning.

After another long pause, Keith spoke up again. "Why... why did you want to leave? Do you regret sleeping with me?"

"No, no! Definitely not!" He quickly replied, panicked. "I regret a lot of my hook ups, but certainly not you. You're... different. I'm just used to... to being used, I guess. Normally, the people I'm with want me gone by morning. The typical 'fuck, drop, and roll' kinda thing," he muttered bitterly. "Honestly, I just slept around a lot because I could. Nobody ever wanted me to stay anyways so I figured I might as well have a good time."

Keith clenched his fists, fighting off the sudden urge to kill every sick bastard who'd ever done that to his lover.

"I don't understand why anybody would ever want to do that to someone like you. They obviously have no idea what they're missing out on, because you're perfect." Lance really didn't have any good reply to that, so he opted to snuggle into Keith's side instead. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been so happy, the last time somebody had actually wanted him to stay.

"But... I don't want this to just be some hook up. I want more. I'm still getting to know you, but I do know you're a wonderful person and you deserve to be treated like one, not just like some fuck toy." His breathing hitched as he looked up at Keith, whose cheeks were dusted with rosy pink. "So... do you want to, like... maybe go see a movie or something with me sometime?"

Lance broke out into ear-to-ear grin, his heart so full of happiness it threatened to burst. Embarrassingly enough, tears gathered in the corners of his eyes as he nodded once. "Yeah, that sounds nice," he said, voice a little strained from holding back his tears.

"Woah, no need to cry!"

"What? I'm not crying, I'm just happy," he sniffled petulantly. "You can't judge me, you use pumpkin spice body wash."

"H-how does that have anything to do with this? Besides, I don't actually use it, I use black pepper body wash."

"Black pepper?!" Lance wheezed. "What the fuck, they actually make that? Y'know, I shouldn't be surprised, you do own an _already half empty bottle_ of pumpkin spice body wash," he cackled.

"Hey! That body wash is high quality and expensive; it's good stuff! I only use the pumpkin one sometimes to save money, and it's not that bad!"

"Oh my god, so you admit it? Keith, a white girl. Who knew?" He gasped, stomach starting to hurt from laughing so hard and tears running down his cheeks.

"W-well, at least I say when I want someone to be rough with me in bed instead of trying to piss them off!" Lance immediately choked violently mid-laugh and blushed 50 shades of red. "H-hey, low blow, dude! That definitely didn't have anything to do with this!" Then quieter, "you noticed that?"

"Of course I did, I'm not blind," he huffed. "Next time, just tell me. Communication is key, and besides, I'd be happy to oblige," he said in a more gentle tone.

"O-okay..." he mumbled, thoroughly embarrassed.

"Hey, come here," he said softly, pulling Lance closer. "I'm sorry, that was rude. It's no big deal, you really don't have to stress over stuff like that." Lance smiled at that and cuddled further into his arms, feeling content. He was surrounded by comforting warmth; Keith's spicy scent and warm body, the soft sweater he wore, the sunlight streaming through the windows, the faint smell of something burnt, hot coffee, and salsa, and the warmth radiating from within himself. Lance found himself hoping the warmth would never end as he dozed off again, wrapped safely in Keith's arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Years later, the G-rated version of their love story was their 5 year old daughter's favorite bedtime story, while their son covered his ears and crinkled his nose in the kind of disgust for love most 8 year old boys have.  
> ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
> Halmoni is the Korean word for grandma because Keith is Korean and anybody who doesn't like it can fight me. Lance is also half Mexican (and pansexual!) and again, anyone who doesn't like it can fight me.
> 
> I did research on body washes for this chapter (because I'm a perfectionist and no detail is too small) and when I asked a friend what body wash scent Keith would use, he replied "he would drown in pumpkin spice", so that's where the idea came from. Also, black pepper body wash actually does exist (so does pumpkin spice, but that's unsurprising) and while I think that's fucking hilarious, it does suit my Spicy Boi Keith™ perfectly.
> 
> Despite calling Keith a white girl, Lance is the real white girl because he loves generic pop music, Starbucks, and he owns way too many Bath and Body Works products.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to come talk to me on [my tumblr](http://koi-bi-to.tumblr.com)! I don't bite, I swear :)


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